Dodge the Toys
by remonrime
Summary: During a baseball game, Mello yearns for victory, but when he trips on one of Near's toys just before getting to home base, Mello snaps in a fit of rage and seeks Near out. One-shot.


**Dodge the Toys**

_A one-shot._

Mello was looking at the batter.

His eyes were focused on the ball, ready to run at any given moment. Just one hit (if his team mate hit the ball of course) and Mello would make it home-- he would win the game for his team members.

Mello licked his lips and curled his fingers, his bare feet pressing into third base with all his might. He was in a crouching position, ready to sprint across the field once the ball was in the air. He could do this, no problem. He was the star player at the orphanage after all-- Mello could win anything, that's why whenever the Wammy children wanted to play a game of ball or something along the lines of that, there was always a tussle over who would have Mello on their team. You see, Mello always guaranteed a speedy victory.

"Come on, come on, come on," Mello hissed under his breath, impatience taking over him. If only they would throw the damn ball already. He watched as the batter went up to plate, his bat ready in his arms. Then the pitcher drew back his arm, positioned himself, and threw.

SMACK-- and Mello shot off in an instant.

He was barreling across the field, his feet pounding against the earth and his breathing dangerously convulsive. He was almost there, just a couple of more feet and he would make it to home plate. Lost in the euphoria of certain victory, Mello's goals of triumph quickly shattered away like tiny shards of glass as a searing pain shot across his right foot.

Mello tripped over his feet and lost his balance, his body tipping forward at an alarming speed. His eyes widened as he neared the ground and then his face collided with the earth with a sickening thud.

The entire field went quiet, the children's eyes wide, fearful, and quivering. What had happened to Mello, they all wondered. Curiosity quickly took the best of them, but they did nothing to satiate their impending questions. Panic started to ease it's way through the children's minds. They all knew that Mello absolutely treasured victory and they were afraid that this sudden upset would unleash the fury that was Mello. They trembled in their places as they waited for the inevitable.

For a while, Mello lay there, face down on the ground. He was trembling, his shoulders shaking rigorously and his teeth gnashing together like a monster's razor sharp teeth. The anger was convulsing off of him like plumes of dense smoke-- a smoke so thick that the children thought they would surely suffocate if they didn't evacuate quickly.

They watched on in horror as Mello slowly got up from the ground, spitting out a clump of dirt from his mouth. His eyes were tiny and bead-like, scanning the ground furiously for something that the children could not see.

Then they saw it.

Some sort of glistening stick was sticking out from the earth, it's metallic parts shining under the glitter of the sun. As the children looked closer, they could tell that it was made out of plastic, but they couldn't see anything beyond that.

Mello frantically crawled towards the shining stick and plucked it out from the ground. He snapped it to his face, his expression contorting demonically. It was a broken robotic arm. He quickly turned around to stare at the children.

"Where the fuck's Near?" Mello shouted at them, clutching the robotic arm within his hand. The rage was controlling him, twisting and gnawing at his mind like a savage beast.

None of the children answered him-- they were too afraid to, the poor dears.

"I'll ask again," he yelled. "Where the fuck is he?"

"U-uh…I-I, I-I think I saw him in his room," one of the children stuttered, their eyes to the ground. Mello spun around and started running back towards the orphanage, robotic arm grasped tightly within the palm of his hand.

At Mello's retreat, the children all let out gasps of breath as they felt relief soak through them. They didn't even bother to think of Near's impending doom-- as long as they were free to live, that was all that mattered to them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXD

"You!"

Near felt a sharp sting at his back. He dropped his Transformer toy (with it's missing arm) and stared at a glistening stick that had somehow magically appeared next to him. His eyes widened in realization as he found the missing arm to Optimus Prime.

Near slowly turned his head and looked up.

Mello was leering down at him like a towering castle, his face twisted in anger, hatred, venom, and all sorts of expressions. Near studied Mello's face, arching a brow in wonder at Mello's disheveled outer appearance.

Mello's usual nicely combed hair was straggly and mangled about his head like a lion's mane. His blue eyes were wide and malicious looking and Near found himself curious as to how Mello's face had gotten so dirty.

"You and your fucking toys!" Mello spat, pointing an accusing finger down at the seated Near. "If it weren't for that cheap piece of plastic you call a toy, I would have won! It's your fault, you did this to me." Mello then pointed at his face to make his point across.

"You did it!" Mello yelled down at him, stepping closer. Near instinctively backed away from the enraged boy. "I could've won, I could've beaten them, it was humiliating…"

Near didn't have time to shield himself as Mello quickly bent down to the floor, snatched Near's Optimus Prime, and threw it at him. The hard, plastic toy collided with Near's chest with a crack, the air leaking out of him like a deflated balloon.

Mello picked up the toy again and threw it a second time, but with more force. This time, it hit Near right in the head.

In a matter of seconds, Mello was snatching toys off the ground, hurling them at the cowering boy on the floor who was desperately trying to dodge the attacks, but with no such luck.

Each smack of the plastic colliding with Near's body left an excruciating bruise. The pain was so immense that Near found it useless to continue defending himself. Mello was just too fast for him and Near was in so much pain.

Finally, the attacks stopped. Near was on the floor, his hands over his face mimicking a sorry excuse for a shelter. He could hear Mello's feet padding away at the ground, getting closer and closer until Mello was only just a few inches away from him.

"Next time, watch where you leave your toys."

**That's right kids, always clean up after yourself! It saves you from getting brutally attacked by toys!**

**It seems that Near always gets the brunt of Mello's anger in my stories. I guess I like to make Near suffer, even though I love him as equally as Mello.**

**Review if you can (unless you have Carpal Tunnel and you can't lift your finger to clicky on the mouse).**


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